


bring us a dream

by Misaya



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Armitage Hux, Established Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Insomnia, M/M, Psychological Horror, Top Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-08-30 23:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8552860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misaya/pseuds/Misaya
Summary: Hux has trouble sleeping, but a chance encounter with the Sandman brings his dreams into reality. +Starts Hux/Ben and turns into Hux/Kylo. rating/tags subject to change.





	1. Chapter 1

Hux craned his neck to look at the clock, its cherry red digits glaringly bright in the darkness. It was nearly three thirty in the morning, and his shift at the clinic started at six. He tossed and turned, punching his pillows and ruffling his sheets, but nothing seemed to help. 

Ben snored in bed next to him, all but dead to the world, and Hux envied him. Almost hated him enough to punch and prod him into joining Hux in his misery, but loved him just a bit more. 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, tossing the covers off, and shivered slightly at the chill. Ben liked it cold, and the hotel room's air conditioner was cranked to sixty-six. It was a bit wonky, and currently it was clicking and clanking away in the corner, hissing slightly with every jet of frigid air it spat out from its vents. Hux hugged himself tightly, rubbing his upper arms frantically only to ward off the chill as he picked his way through the dark room, nearly tripping over one of Ben's shoes as his fingers scrabbled over the glass surface of the pull-out desk for the packet of cigarettes and matchbox he'd tossed there earlier. The sound of his keys scraping over the glass seemed too loud in the quiet, and Hux held his breath, listening to Ben shift restlessly in the bed behind him. He settled after a moment, and Hux relaxed again, tiptoeing towards the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, cigarettes and matches clutched tightly in his fist. 

The night air was cool against his bare skin, and he leaned heavily against the wrought-iron railing, puffing meditatively as he stared out at the twinkling spread of downtown Seattle laid out before him. The Space Needle gleamed pearly in the distance, and Hux blew his smoke into the slight breeze, vaguely hoping that he wouldn't get charged extra for smoking on the balcony of a non-smoking room. 

Well, he rationalized, cupping one hand carefully around the lit end, he wouldn't get charged if he didn't get caught, and he hardly expected any patrolling hotel workers to be paying particular attention to a bobbing pinprick of light on a balcony on the fourteenth floor at half past three. 

Just to make sure, he glanced around absentmindedly, his eyes straining to pick out any telltale reflections from a security camera lens embedded smartly somewhere beneath the ledge of the balcony of the suite above him. 

There was none, and Hux relaxed again, chuckling faintly at his own paranoia. 

A flicker of motion and light at the corner of his vision caught his eye, and he turned to look. 

Three balconies to his left, a man had clicked on the balcony light. From his vantage point, Hux studied him carefully, stubbing out his cigarette on the glass table by his elbow and flicking the still-faintly smoldering butt over the railing. The man seemed to be fidgeting with the sliding door, trying to open it, and Hux was about to open his mouth and tell him the trick was to push slightly to the left first when the man turned to look in his direction. 

Hux's breath caught in his throat as the light caught the man's features and cast them into sharp relief. 

He was smiling widely, almost maniacally, his eyes bulging and darting around as though searching in the darkness for something. For someone. Hux had the terrifying suspicion that the man could see him somehow, in all the shadow, and he instinctively crouched, took a step backwards, fumbling blindly behind him for the handle to the door. 

The man's piercing gaze fell on him, sharp and intense, and Hux flicked his eyes away quickly. The face felt wrong, somehow, too perfect and too elastic, as though it was fresh rubber poured over someone's bone and muscle and sinew to create a new face that didn't quite make sense. 

His eyes flicked back to meet the man's unblinking gaze, locked right on his own. 

He was unable to help the gasp that escaped. 

The man opened his mouth, bright white teeth like perfect gravestones, presumably about to say something, and Hux was steeling himself for it when the light above him clicked on and washed him in a blindingly bright puddle of fluorescence. 

"What's the matter, love?" 

Ben's voice was sleep rumpled, his syllables lax and loose from behind him, and Hux's heartbeat started to slow. 

"Whatcha doin', outside in the dark?" 

Hux glanced over to the other balcony. The light had been extinguished, and if the other man was still there, watching, waiting, hungry for something Hux didn't dare to define, he was unable to see him. He shivered at the thought. 

"Back to bed," Ben ordered gently, laying a firm hand on Hux's bare shoulder and steering him inside again before sliding the door closed with a decisive click. "Your skin's all clammy." He tilted Hux's head up slightly to brush a light kiss over his mouth. Hux could almost see his nose wrinkling. "Ugh. You taste like fire." 

"Yeah, couldn't sleep, sorry," Hux murmured apologetically. 

The springs of the bed squealed beneath their weight as Ben pushed him back into the sheets and wrapped long limbs around him, burying his nose in Hux's unkempt hair. 

"Sleep," Ben commanded. "It's too early to be up." 

Hux shifted restlessly, stiff and twitchy with the memories of the man's awful smile in the forefront of his mind, until Ben finally sighed and pressed a kiss to his neck, lush lips against his racing heartbeat. 

"C'mon, baby, don't be like this," Ben murmured, breathily, his fingers fiddling at the waistband of Hux's boxers. "Here. Let me help you." 

Hux could hardly say no Ben's offer, especially as undeserved as it was, and he sighed deeply, the first tingles of pleasure winding faintly down his spine as Ben's fingers loosely wrapped around his cock and began to stroke gently. 

He pressed his hips back insistently against Ben's as his cock hardened in Ben's grip, but Ben remained frustratingly loose and limp against him. He whined in protest, and was only rewarded with a light laugh that would have set his blood to boiling under any other circumstances. 

Ben's fingers twisted lightly, delicately, under the head, and Hux muffled a whimper in the feathery pillow against his cheek, his hips pressing lightly into Ben's palm. Ben was laying soft kisses against the column of his neck, and Hux longed for bites, longed for marks that he could press against and feel the soreness above his collar the next morning, but Ben would never do something like that. He was always too gentle, always treating Hux like a fragile glass ornament that might shatter at the first opportunity. 

Sometimes Hux hated it. 

Ben's hand tightened around the base of Hux's cock, almost lazily, and Hux couldn't stop himself from protesting. 

"What the fuck," he hissed in irritation, pushing his hips forward, looking for friction and finding none. "I thought you wanted to go back to sleep." 

"Hm," Ben mumbled, his lips tickling against the nape of Hux's neck. "Maybe I just wanted to work you up and leave you like this." Hux's cock was twitching against Ben's palm, pleasure wound tightly in the pit of his belly, and all he wanted was to to come, spilling himself over the sheets, then sleep and leave a tip for housekeeping in the morning. 

"You wouldn't," Hux hissed back, almost scandalized, and was almost grateful to hear Ben's deep chuckle reverberating through his chest. 

"I wouldn't," Ben soothed, his hand resuming its lazy stroking, and Hux worried his lower lip between his teeth as the pleasure drew taut between his hips. "Love you too much."

Hux's voice broke into a quiet sob as the flat of Ben's thumb rubbed over the weeping head, pressing lightly. His hips twitched forward, once, twice, then again, and he gripped the cotton sheets beneath him tightly as he came. The light sweat he'd broken into cooled slowly on his body as he caught his breath, and he felt pleasantly dizzy as he sank back into the downy softness of the sheets and pillows. 

"Ben," Hux asked, wriggling back into Ben's warm embrace and finally feeling the faintest hint of drowsiness soaking into his bones.

"Hm?" Ben was already half asleep, Hux was sure, having already wiped his hand off unceremoniously on the sheets beneath them. His own eyelids were growing heavier with every passing moment. 

"Did you see him?"

"See who?" 

Hux opened his mouth to tell Ben about the encounter, about the man on the balcony of Room 1427 and how there seemed to be something rather wrong about him, but Ben's breathing had already turned deep and even, and hux knew he'd lost his chance. 

He sighed, simultaneously promising he'd bring it up later and then scolding himself for a hyperactive imagination, and let his eyes drift closed. 


	2. Chapter 2

"You feeling alright?" 

Hux jolted, his eyes flying open, the Eppendorf tube of blood he was holding sloshing in his grasp. He glanced at it; he had just centrifuged the sample only a few minutes earlier, and now it looked homogenous again. He growled in frustration and slotted it back into the centrifuge to spin again. 

The intern he was training, or supposed to be, was looking at him with no small amount of worry. He forced a strained smile onto his face. 

"I'm fine, Mr. Mitaka, thank you for your concern," he replied, trying to wave it off nonchalantly and failing. His hands were shaking, he could see them twitching in their latex gloves as he reached up to rip off the printout from the machine's tray in front of him. Ketones were elevated, he noted with a touch of dismay. They'd have to drop the subject. 

"Do you..." Mitaka hedged, and Hux felt a small tic of annoyance at the corner of his eye. "Do you want me to get you a coffee from the cafe downstairs or something? You look kind of tired." When Hux turned to glare at him, he hastened to say, "Sorry, sorry, I just meant I wanted to go and get a coffee and was wondering if perhaps you wanted one too. Foot in mouth and all that." 

Hux turned back to the machines in front of him. The centrifuge whirred on as Mitaka waited for his response. Admittedly, a coffee did sound good. A mocha with two extra shots of espresso. Hux could almost taste the bittersweet liquid coating his tongue already. 

"Fine, yes, I'd like that," he muttered. "Mocha, two shots of espresso, no whipped cream. Nonfat milk," he added, as the legs of Mitaka's chair scraped along the tile floor as the other man stood up and grabbed his coat to head downstairs. 

"Anything to eat?" Mitaka asked, already at the door, looking back at Hux. 

Hux turned to look at him over his shoulder. The hallway outside the technicians' room was still dark; the sun hadn't yet risen fully over the surrounding hills, and he lost Mitaka for a brief moment in the darkness. A rising sense of panic started to crawl up his throat as his eyes flicked from side to side, peering fruitlessly through the doorway, and he remembered a smile that looked like it had been forced into place with wires and - 

"Hux?" Mitaka's voice asked again, and, much to his relief, Mitaka stepped back into the well-lit room. He was frowning at Hux, a bit of confusion in his eyes, and Hux could hardly blame him. He cleared his throat, tamped down the last remains of the panic he'd felt, and took a deep breath before asking Mitaka if he could pick up a chocolate croissant. 

Mitaka agreed readily, jingling his keys in his coat pocket, and Hux turned back to his work, listening to Mitaka's footsteps fade away down the hall. The centrifuge's whirring was starting to slow down; the sample was almost ready to be processed again. 

The large digital clock on the wall above the machines read 6:27 AM. It was 53 degrees Fahrenheit outside, and the weather forecast, if the clock could be believed, predicted heavy rain. Possibly thunderstorms. The little squiggles were unclear, or maybe Hux was just too tired at the present moment to interpret them correctly. 

He stifled a yawn. Ben wouldn't be up yet, especially since he'd woken up in the middle of the night. Hux could all but see him now: He'd be sprawled out and spread-eagled in the middle of the king-sized bed, the covers almost falling to the floor, and his hair would be spread out across the pillows in curly ringlets. His skin would slowly grow more rosy as the sun climbed over the horizon and shone in through the crack in the curtains, and maybe he'd turn over a bit and hug a pillow, thinking it was Hux. 

Hux sighed quietly, stripping off his gloves and scratching at his wrists where the band of the gloves had dug into them. There was nothing he wanted more than to go back to his hotel and crawl into bed with Ben. 

There were footsteps in the hall, and he hastened to get on a new pair of gloves. The doctors and nurses he was working with in this particular clinic were sticklers for lab hygiene and protective equipment, and Hux couldn't risk getting on their bad sides. The company he worked for, First Order Medical Supplies, needed the cooperation of all the clinics they could realistically work with if they wanted to even be close to launching their new product this year. 

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, in the hopes they'd water enough to not appear too bloodshot, and hastily pulled the newly spun tube of blood out of the centrifuge. The serum was clear, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he popped the cap and put it into the machine in front of him. 

The footsteps stopped outside the room's doorway, and he turned back, forcing a smile on his face, to greet whatever doctor or nurse was checking up on the patients' printouts. 

"I'm just running a sample now," he began, "it was a bit hemolyzed before, but I think I've fixed the...problem..." He trailed off. The doorway was still empty, and the sense of panic came back full tilt. There was no way that Mitaka had gone all the way down to the first floor, stood in line at the cafe, received his items, and come back. It had only been a few minutes. 

He swallowed roughly, his fingers reaching for his phone in the shirt pocket of his scrubs. He stood up slowly, carefully, his shoes shuffling softly on the floor as he made his way towards the door, clutching his phone like a weapon, ready to hit the dial button on the emergency call. 

His heart was pounding a tattoo in his rib cage as he clutched at the doorjamb uncertainly, poking his head into the hallway and looking back and forth. It was no lighter than it had been when Mitaka had left a few minutes earlier, and Hux strained his eyes to try and make out anything except the bright flashing green exit sign farther down the hall. 

"Hello?" he called, uncertainly, hating how his voice quivered and shook. "Dr. Williams? Dr. Jong?" 

There was no response, and save for the slight clicking and whirring of the machines behind him, Hux could hear nothing else. Not even the patients in the clinic down the hall were chatting, no TVs or radios were blaring. 

There. 

His eye caught on a place where the darkness seemed to be heavier in the faint pool of light cast by the neon green exit sign. As he watched, he swore it started to move, started to coalesce into something that looked suspiciously like someone. 

"Dr. Williams?" he asked, clutching his phone and the doorjamb tighter until his knuckles whitened. "Hello?" 

The darkness turned heavier, and the creeping sensation of being watched by something he didn't understand weighed on Hux's shoulders. He wished Mitaka were back, wished Kylo were here. 

The exit sign overhead flickered, seemed to explode in a cascade of brilliant green sparks, and it was all Hux could do to choke down the scream trapped tight in his throat. He slammed the door of the technicians' room closed, and leaned back against it with all his weight, his breath sobbing in his lungs and his heart racing. 

Hux fixed his eyes on the clock, watched as the seconds slowly ticked away to 6:31, 6:32, 6:33, 6:34. He had half a mind to call out sick, apologize profusely to the doctors but there were only three subjects today and he was sure Mitaka would be able to handle it. He needed sleep, or a Xanax or three. 

His heartbeat slowed gradually, his breathing returning to normal, and the fearful sweat he'd broken into turned cold on his temples. He swiped it away with the back of a glove, wrinkling his nose in disgust, and stripped it off before tossing it in the biohazard bin. 

He jumped when a knock came on the door, then scolded himself sternly when Mitaka's voice came through, asking if he could open the door, he had his hands full. 

"Yeah, sorry about that," Hux murmured as he hastened to open the door. Mitaka shuffled in, laden down with paper bags and a cardboard carry tray of coffees. Hux noted that both of them had whipped cream, though he was quite sure he'd specified not to add that, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. There were bigger things to worry about, such as the darkness in the hallway. Hux poked his head out again tentatively; the exit sign was brightly lit again, and the sun was rising over the horizon to paint the hallway with gold and rose. There were no crash carts or abandoned wheelchairs or remote IV poles standing around, nothing to indicate what might have caused the shadow. 

Hux straightened himself out, glaring down the hallway a few more seconds. 

Perhaps his mental state was something more to be worried about, he amended, wondering if perhaps might be the time to make use of the free counseling and therapeutic sessions he got as part of his healthcare package. 

No, a small part of him whispered. Then Ben will ask what's going on, and the doctor is going to tell you that you need to get more sleep; he'll prescribe you mild sedatives and sleeping pills and those always make you so fuzzy, and you definitely saw that man last night and...that something just now. 

"Feeling better?" Mitaka inquired as he unpacked the contents of the paper bag and laid out Hux's chocolate croissant on a napkin. It was flaky and warm, the chocolate melting in his mouth, and Hux felt better after his first bite. The mocha was hot and strong, as he liked it, and he nearly burned his tongue and the back of his throat as he took a few deep swallows, sighing before setting the cardboard cup down and turning back to look at the few printouts that had appeared in Mitaka's absence. 

"A bit, just waking up still," Hux explained, forcing a bland smile onto his face. Mitaka seemed to accept his words at face value, and headed off to the corner of the room to eat his breakfast. Hux almost asked him if he'd seen anything suspicious in the hall when he'd come back, but decided against it. 

It had probably just been an electrical short that had caused the sign to do that, he thought to himself firmly. The darkness was just a figment of his imagination, surely. Something caused by too little sleep and too much stress. That was all he could logically accept.

* * *

 

The rest of the shift passed uneventfully, and even with the extra caffeine, Hux still found himself falling asleep or drifting into daydreams with frightening regularity. Fortunately, he'd trained Mitaka well, and the study proceeded without any noticeable hindrances. When Dr. Williams popped out of the clinic and took Hux aside to ask him if he was feeling quite alright, Hux took a deep breath, forced a smile onto his face, and said that he'd just been coming down with a touch of the flu or some other seasonal illness like that. Dr. Williams didn't look convinced, but just clapped Hux on the shoulder and told him to get some rest. 

He stumbled out of the clinic at one, his stomach growling, and barely had the presence of mind to wave away Mitaka's offer of dinner and drinks at some bar in Bellevue. 

"I've got dinner tonight with Ben," he explained, not unkindly, pretending to ignore the way Mitaka's face fell in something that looked suspiciously like romantic disappointment. "And besides," he added, clapping Mitaka on the back and trying to smile, "you wouldn't want to be stuck with an old man like me. We've got the day off tomorrow, so why don't you try to get some rest now, go out to Bellevue later, and then go clubbing at Capitol Hill? I'm sure there are plenty of fun distractions you'll be able to take advantage with, especially without dragging along someone with a ten-thirty bedtime."

Mitaka laughed, a little forced, and they parted ways at the entrance to the hospital. Hux watched Mitaka make his way out, a stripe of slate blue amongst white coats and mint green scrubs, and sighed to himself before fishing his phone out of his pocket and calling an Uber.

* * *

 

Though it was past noon and there was evidence of breakfast leftovers and a recent shower, Ben looked just as Hux had pictured him six hours ago. Fast asleep, clutching at a pillow, the covers just barely tugged over the V of his hips. The television was on, set to a low volume on some sports channel that Hux had absolutely no interest in watching. The curtains had been drawn back, and the afternoon sunlight made Ben's skin gleam, illuminating the dark trail of hair that traced down Ben's stomach between his thighs.

Hux swallowed, his mouth dry. He had half a mind to cover Ben up a bit.

His stomach growled again, sending all half-formed thoughts of lust out of his mind. 

He crawled onto the bed, the mattress dipping and squeaking slightly beneath his added weight, and shook Ben's shoulder. His skin was warm to the touch, and Hux couldn't resist leaning his head down to press a kiss to Ben's skin. He tasted like lemongrass, citrus, warm and sweet against Hux's lips. 

Ben stirred, turning slightly to Hux, his eyes opening slowly and blinking as his pupils contracted, adjusting to the light. 

"Oh, you're back," he said, with a loose smile that sent a feeling of tenderness spiking through Hux. He leaned forward and allowed Ben to kiss him, reveling in the feeling of plush lips pressed against his thin ones and giving in to the urge to arch into Ben's hand coming up to thread fingers through his hair. "Work good?" 

A flashed memory of the hallway and the sputtering exit sign. Hux almost told Ben about it, but Ben was smiling languidly at him, and Hux could hardly bring himself to spoil Ben's obviously good mood. 

"Work was fine," he replied, returning Ben's smile weakly. "Have you eaten yet?" 

"Had breakfast," Ben grunted, sitting up fully. The sun gleamed over the curve of his spine, and Ben shivered slightly as Hux trailed his forefinger over the ridges and knots of his vertebrae. "You're probably starving, huh?" 

"I am," Hux agreed. Ben made some sort of noncommittal noise in his throat before slipping out of bed and hunting around on the floor for his boxers. Hux watched him, admired the way the light flared over his muscles and contours, and just for a few moments, was able to forget. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me at misayawriting.tumblr.com   
> (and a gentle reminder that i adore comments too~)


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